Whoever left the bloody curtains open is going to get stabbed in the bloody eye with the fork that I keep in my top bedside drawer.

It’s probably still eight in the fucking morning, and the sun was already slapping my eyes like there was no tomorrow.

The sun was not welcomed this early in the morning.

If I could, I would charm those drapes shut forever, and ever, until the end of time.

But for some stupid, blonde-girl reason, Dominique insists on gracing our dormitory with a streaming fucking ray of sunlight. She claims that our little ‘shit-hole dorm’ needs happiness in the form of sunshine.

I think her mother dropped her when she was a baby, and she acquired some serious brain damage, one with effects that will not surface until she reaches the age of twenty-five. That’s the only plausible explanation for Dominique’s super strange personality and ethics.

Nevertheless, she’s going to die.

I groaned, and rolled over to my backside.

Hm… the room was questionably quiet.

Usually, Layla would be blasting her music by now.

Unless she’s still asleep…

I slowly cracked an eye open and turned to the clock nailed to our wall. It was one thirty. Merlin, I slept through breakfast and lunch. No wonder the dorm was so empty…

Feeling a surge of pressure upon my bladder, I suddenly had to pee really badly. I pulled myself out of my soft, comfortable bed, and trudged my way into the bathroom. I was settled on the toilet when something dark caught my eye.

“Fuck.” I cursed angrily. “Dammit, fuck the creator of all women.”

Mother nature just graced me with her monthly gift!

Excuse me while I run around the castle jumping for joy.

Growling out of annoyance, I reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed our box of charmed tampons. They were painless (in terms of removing), leak-free, and they smelled like heaven on a stick.

After I was done with my business, I immediately collapsed on my bed and groaned.

“Where are all my friends?” I muttered to myself.

I was bored, and I was hungry.

Once I decided that planking on my bed would get me absolutely nowhere, I grabbed an over sized sweater from my cardigan, my fluffy slippers, then my wand, and shuffled out the door.

The common room was empty. I reached the bottom stair, and literally heard crickets. Even the fire looked like it had died long before I arrived. I frowned and turned back, making my way up the boy’s staircase. They were my last resort until I would begin to panic, and declare myself to be the last species of the human race.

I suddenly had the urge to hug him. I just learned that I was, in fact, not the last one on the planet! Perhaps Potter and I were the last two.

That means we’re both responsible for making babies and repopulating the earth.

I had absolutely no problem with that.

Pardon me, I turn into a horn-ball when I’m on my period.

I walked around Tyler’s bed, and slowly peered into the bathroom.

Just incase Potter was — you know — naked or something. He wasn’t naked; although, he was in the middle of getting dressed. Which meant his slacks hung loose against his hips, while his shirt (unbuttoned) was un-tucked, and draped across his shoulders.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked curiously, leaning against the doorframe. I pulled the sleeves of the sweater to entirely cover my hand before I crossed my arms over my chest.

He turned to me, and his brows knitted into a frown. “Aren’t you going somewhere as well?”

“Er… no?”

He laughed, somewhat sourly, while shaking his head. He turned away and began buttoning his shirt. “It’s a Hogsmeade trip today. Desmond left long before any of us even woke up, and Tyler… I think he mentioned something about scouring for some girl he met last night.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering what today was.

It was my date with Potter.

Merlin, how could I forget?

“You remember now, I take it?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Sorry, Potter. After last night—”

“Yeah, I get it.” He nodded, cutting me off immediately. I shut my gaped mouth faster than anyone could say ‘quidditch’. Last nights’ events came rushing back into my mind, and all I could do was stand before Potter and remain as quiet as possible. Finding out that your best friend spent his night hooking up with your baby sister was a heavy blow, and I knew Potter well enough to know that something as small as attempting to bring back this ‘utter betrayal’ (or so Potter calls it) would be like signing my own death sentence. Profoundly stupid.

A fifty-foot high wall of ice formed between Potter and Desmond after last night. Before we even made it to the kitchens, Potter spotted Desmond and Lily snogging — quite passionately, I hear — in an empty corridor after hours. Potter threw several punches, and I knew, even from a distance of an entire flight of stairs, that Desmond did not have the heart to retaliate.

After watching Lily’s futile attempt of stopping Potter, I jumped in and charmed Potter away. He furiously dragged Lily back to the common room, and somehow, managed to lock her in her dormitory for the night.

I followed them back to the common room quietly. Once Potter and Lily disappeared up the staircase, I plopped down on the arm chair and ignored the questions Layla and Roxy were pouring over me.

Moments later, Potter rushed down the staircase and, without a single look, he left.

Again, I helplessly followed him.

Along the way, I mentally cursed Desmond down, finding his stupidity utterly unbelievable. A large part of me hoped that they were only snogging because neither of them knew who the other was. I prayed and hoped that Desmond would be the smart booger I knew him to be, and he would push Lily away once the masks came off and identities were revealed.

Obviously, this booger let me down.

So I followed Potter down a dark and very empty corridor. He stopped by an opened window, and perched himself on the high edge. He smoked the rest of the night away, and as much as I disapproved of smoking, I did nothing. Instead, I joined him, pulled a cigarette from his half-empty pack of twelve, and lit it. The smell annoyed me more than usual, so I pulled out my wand and manipulated the breeze to keep the exhaled smoke moving forward, disabling it from lingering about and clinging to my robes.

Potter and I spent the night together, sitting in silence. From time to time, he’d glance in my direction, and I would glace in his. Other times, we would completely forget about the others’ presence, allowing the night to completely draw us in.

For the first time in a long time, I witnessed a storm dialing down. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before. After taking a long look at Potter’s relaxed form leaning against the windowpane, I silently found myself wishing for the ability to put out his fire, just like his ability to put out mine.

“Give me a break, Potter.” I snapped irritably. I immediately wished I wasn’t so cross with him. I knew how unstable Potter’s temper was at the moment, and although I normally wouldn’t care, I didn’t want to push him.

“Oh, I get it…” he said, turning around to face me. My crossness didn’t seem to faze him as much as I thought it would. Potter was being uncharacteristically patient today… “It’s your time of the month today.”

I bleached. “Eh…”

He chuckled. “That would explain your sudden cravings last night.”

“It also explains my sudden cravings right now…”

“Did you come here for the map?” he asked.

I shook my head and plopped myself down on the end of his bed. “No. I feared that there was a zombie apocalypse while I was asleep, and since my entire dorm, and common room was empty, I came up here to check if there was anyone else left.”

He chuckled. “Looks like you and I are the only two left, huh?”

I made a face and playfully stuck my tongue out. “We both know we’ll end up killing each other by the end of the day.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” He grabbed the map from his bedside table, and draped his tie over a lamp. “C’mon, let’s get you some food.”

As we made our way through his dorm and out the door, I could no longer hide my astonishment with Potters’ attitude. He no longer blew me off with one gaze, nor did he even bother to verbally abuse me, even after learning that his chances of pushing my buttons were higher than ever. Instead, he offered to bring me to the kitchens. I couldn’t tell if this was some kind of peace offering, or if last night severely wracked up his brain.

Walking with Potter to the kitchens was almost like a dream. I cracked joke after joke, regardless of its cheesiness and stupidity, and Potter laughed at every single one of them. Honestly, he was scaring me more than he was making me happy.

When we finally arrived in the kitchens, I grumbled as I climbed on one of the incredibly high stools situated in front of the incredibly high island in the middle of the room.

Potter slipped onto the stool with ease.

Within a flash, a house elf appeared by my side. “What can Binky do for you, miss?”

“I’ll have some steak and kidney pie, please.” I asked sweetly. “With some assortment of fruits, and a nice slice of chocolate cake!”

Binky nodded eagerly. The little bugger was so cute.

Turning to Potter, she asked, “And for Mr. Potter, sir?”

“I’ll have the regular, Binky, thank you.”

“Right away, sir!”

Once Binky scoured away into the other room, I turned back to Potter with a curious expression. He was twisting his wand in between his fingers while his eyes were glued on the wooden surface of the counter.

I bit my lip before I decided to call for his attention. “Potter.”

He didn’t budge.

“Psst, Potter.”

Nothing.

“Potter!”

“Ah, what?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “Why are you yelling, I’m right in front of you.”

I gave him a look. “Maybe because you’ve been ignoring me. Okay, seriously, Potter, please stop this nice guy act. It’s a little strange, to be honest.”

Potter lifted his gaze, looking amused. His hands came to a halt and the twisting stopped. “Nice guy act?” he repeated. “What are you on about this time?”

I frowned distastefully. “Don’t even try to play, Potter. You’re awfully… not an arse today.”

“And that’s a problem.” He concluded questioningly.

“Not necessarily…” I trailed off, unsure of how to word my thoughts without sounding like an utterly insensitive imbecile. “But it’s a big jump! I’d like you to be nice because you want to, Potter, not because you’re too distracted to be your regular arsehole self.”

“What makes you think I’m distracted?” he asked drily.

“Are you really going to try to deny it?”

He sighed. “Don’t start, Vic, please.” He pleaded. I was surprised that this came out as a plea, instead of a command. “I brought you to the kitchens to satiate your menstrual urges. The least you can do is distract me for as long as I please.”

I rolled my eyes. “So I guess this date came at a good time, huh?” I teased bitterly. “You don’t have to go scouring for your own personal form of a distraction. Particularly, a pair of long legs, and a nice round arse to go with it.”

“Don’t be bitter.” He scolded annoyingly. “I’m not going to lie and say that my willingness to go on this date had nothing to do with you being a… distraction.” I rolled my eyes and stiffened in my seat. He wasn’t choosing his words as carefully as I’d hoped. He suddenly made me feel like an object only good for materialistic and/or physical use. I knew that ‘distraction’ meant more to Potter than a couple of cheesy jokes and a pleasant conversation, and because of this, I felt… iridescently dirty. “But I will admit,” And then, Potter did something he’s never done before. Usually, He would sit back, smirk, and watch me flounder. Instead, he bent down slightly and recaptured my gaze with his. A small, faint smile settled on his lips, and it made him look more handsome than ever. In the span of those five seconds, his eyes — his fiery green eyes — managed to wordlessly coax me into the kind of assurance I did not know I needed. The small, insignificant act of sensitivity sent me down into an unwinding spiral until I found myself on my own two feet.

It was like Potter was a life-long expert in strapping me down and forcing me to breathe. Without him, I knew that in time, I would have suffocated and drowned. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest. The simple fact that Potter was able to calm me down so quickly forced me to rip my eyes away from his, childishly hoping that it would hide the blush that spread across my cheeks.

He chuckled, and I knew that my attempt had just been proven fruitless. “You know, Victoria, I didn’t know you could be so cute.” Finally, he dropped his piercing gaze, but his smile remained. “Anyway, it’s not important. Our food has arrived.”

There it was. The inevitable snap that would send me winding back into the pit of bubbling anger, compliments of Potter. “You’re an arsehole, Potter.” I spat, glaring daggers in his direction. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that!”

“Like I said.” He shrugged, pulling his sandwich in front of him. “It’s not important.”

-
James Potter

I had always been afraid of females and their monthly menstrual cycles. It was something in ever understood, and something I never wanted to understand.

During the summers I spent with the girls, there would always be two weeks (a month apart, of course) that I would personally consider, hell on Earth. Desmond, Tyler and I would always walk on eggshells, since we were all too afraid that we would do or say something that could potentially set one of them off like a bloody alarm. Regardless, during these two weeks, nothing we did would ever be good enough. Nothing we fed them would ever be good enough. Their cravings would go off the charts, and their emotions were as rocky as a fucking mountain.

There was one summer when Dominique missed her cycle. At first, I thought it was a good thing. I was happy, and thankful that there was one less emotional wreck in the house. But shit, I was so wrong. For days, she wailed and wailed, and took tests after tests, completely convinced that she had a baby in the bloody oven, regardless of what the tests told her.

In short, it was one shitty week.

I was surprised with myself when I willingly offered to take Victoria down to the kitchens in spite of her… dilemma. I had no idea what I was in for then, and as I watched Victoria heartily pour herself over a steak and kidney pie, I still didn’t know what the rest of the day could possibly bring. What I did know, however, was I sure as hell did not regret a single decision I made that morning.

I found myself enjoying her company more than usual. Before last night, the only reason I ever enjoyed Victoria’s company was because she proved herself useful in entertaining me to no end. Pissing her off and pushing her buttons became my hobby after meeting her during our first year. It was funny, and I was good at it. But lately, things were changing, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about it. It was no longer about pissing her off, or one-sided, mental bets to see how long she could last before she snapped. Lately, it’s been a lot more.

“Did you hear the Wicked Sisters’ new album?” she asked casually, shoving a spoonful of pie into her mouth. “I think it’s their best one yet, don’t you?”

I smiled and threw a napkin in front of her. “Yeah, I knicked Layla’s record after she spent an entire practice fangirling over the new lead singer.”

“It’s a little weird that it’s a guy, isn’t it? It’s misleading.”

My time with Victoria last night resurfaced in my mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Ever since we parted in the common room late last night, or — I should say — early in the morning, I tried pinpointing the precise reason why I wanted her to stick around. As she disappeared up the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitories, I relentlessly tried to shove my unwelcomed desires down my fucking throat. It wasn’t physical, surprisingly enough. Sexual desires were long forgotten, and remained forgotten that entire night. My desires were solely… comfort and assurance, and somewhat… emotional.

It made me sick to my stomach mentally admitting something so… unfitting. Never once did I seek comfort in someone else, much less Victoria. I wasn’t even sure why I was so upset. All I should be feeling was anger. Desmond snogged my little sister, and refused to stop. He broke the fucking bro code — the unspoken promises between all bromances. Practical stopped at anger, maybe even pure rage. So why the fuck did I feel like there’s something more lingering beneath all this pent up anger?

“I feel at ease.” Victoria said suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I asked.

She was staring down at her half eaten pie, pushing a piece of meat around the bottom of her place. “After everything that happened last night, after everything that’s been happening lately, for that matter, it feels nice to dial down for a day.”

“This year is turning out to be a handful, isn’t it?” I agreed.

The image of Desmond feeling up my little sister re-entered my mind, for about the umpteenth time that day. The bloody bastard broke the pact and fucking betrayed me. I scowled openly. I was sure that she did not even have to ask in order to know why I was suddenly expressing such bitterness.

After I was unfortunate enough to have gotten caught on a bloody moving staircase, I wandered through some fucking forsaken corridor, and caught my little sister snogging my best friend. She had him against the wall, and they were snogging the living daylights out of each other. It was bloody disgusting, and I wanted to murder him. I came close to doing so, in fact, until Victoria came and charmed the both of us apart. Lily was, needless to say, furious without reason. I was, needless to fucking say, furious with reason. Desmond was guilty, as expected.

In my defense, the fucker knew what he was getting himself into even before he decided to set his hands on my sister.

And Victoria… Victoria was caught in the middle.

After dragging Lily back to the common room, and successfully locking her in her own dormitory for the night (I was bloody surprised I succeeded), I fled. Victoria was waiting in the common room, but I paid no attention to her. I assumed she was worried that I was going to spend the rest of my night hunting down a fucking Cupid. Without a single look or even a spec of explanation shot towards my friends, I left the common room in search of silence.

I made it to the fourth floor before I grew tired of walking. I hopped on a high windowsill and cracked it open with the intention of smoking. Without having to turn around, I knew Victoria had followed me, and at the time, I didn’t think much of it. I did, however, hesitate before pulling out the short, white stick she hated so much. But at that point, my anger and frustration dominated all logical and practical thoughts. I pulled out a cigarette anyway, and lit it before she reached me.

She joined me silently. She swung her legs over the windowsill, and slung them over the edge of the window as if she did not care that she was sitting four stories high with absolutely nothing keeping her from serious injuries. Surprisingly, she pulled a cigarette out of the small box and lit it.

I restrained myself from pointing out every ounce of hypocrisy in her smoking, and instead, I watched her with censored attentiveness, making sure that she was left unaware of my sudden interest. I watched as her cheek narrowed with every drag, and as her lips parted with each exhale. The smoke whisked around her like magic.

For the first time ever, she remained silent.

That was how I liked it.

Pulling myself back to reality, I forced the images of Desmond and Lily away, and willed myself to think of other things. Quidditch; the potions and transfiguration essay that are both sitting on my bed, unfinished; Dominique’s almost-depression; Quidditch; Victoria… “And it’s only November.”

“I don’t even what to think about what might be coming next.” Then, she sighed. “How did things get so out of hand? One year, everything is perfect; the next, everything is spiraling out of control.”

I chuckled with the intentions of hiding the bitterness that was dying to come out, but my control has been slipping these days. Or perhaps I just did not give a flying fuck anymore. “I guess that’s the price we pay for befriending a Cupid.”

Victoria laughed. It was a more genuine laugh than mine. “We didn’t know what we were taking on when we met Desmond. He’s the epitome of false labeling. His ‘normal teenage boy’ façade is incredibly misleading.” It was then when I realized how much I enjoyed listening to her speak. As annoying as I found her voice in the past, I just could not get enough of it. If I were to look at this through some kind of shitty psychological perspective, I’d come to guess that I had just realized the reason why I cannot seem to restrain myself from jumping at the first chance to argue with her. I, however, will never and would never, admit it out loud.

Fuck, I couldn’t believe it.

Fortunately, that’s what denial is for.

And I plan to remain swimming, and basking in all it’s glory for as long as I can.

“You’re awfully quiet today.” She pointed out before she prodded her fork with her tongue, and began absentmindedly outlining the rim. Her motions distracted me momentarily. “What’s on your mind, Potter?”

Yo—

“Nothing.” I answered fast, before my mind could even finish its ridiculous thought.

Victoria frowned, obviously not buying my answer. “Nothing my arse.” She grumbled beneath her breath. Luckily, she didn’t push it. Surprisingly, she didn’t push it. “I’m craving salmon.” She announced to no one in particular. “Sushi…” Her mouth practically started watering. “Merlin, I want to be back in London.”

I chuckled. “Chocolate will have to suffice for now.” I pushed the slice of cake towards her, and instantly, she made a face. “Are you seriously rejecting chocolate?”

“I’ve lost my taste for chocolate.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste.

I gasped dramatically, before rolling my eyes. “Bloody women.” I scowled. “They never know what they want.”

Suddenly, a hateful expression swept over her face. “Don’t start with me, Potter.” She growled angrily.

“Are you kidding me? Is it my fault that women turn into indecisive brats when they’re on their period?”

“It’s your fault that you’re an insensitive prick.”

“It’s not being insensitive, it’s called being practical. It’s the plain truth, Vic, whether you like it or not.”

“Insensitive arse.” She spat. “If I’m that much of an ‘indecisive brat’, then why are you even here, Potter?”

“I fear that you might end up killing a house elf while you go on your all-you-can-eat binge.”

She scowled and then glared at me.

We couldn’t very well have gone through the entire afternoon without arguing once, now could we?

“Prat.” She muttered under her breath, before she pushed the plate away, jumped off the stool, and stormed off.

Despite myself, I chuckled, and stared down at the slice of cake that was roughly shoved closer in my direction. I was feeling strangely… pleasant, and much too pleased for someone who had just managed to tick someone off.

After relishing in this pleasure, I followed her exit — though I skipped the whole tantrum part — and once I left the kitchen, I jogged forward to catch up to her. All the while, I found it impossible to shake the smirk that took over my face.

Victoria was not that far ahead when I caught sight of her again. Her sweater flowed behind her as she tried to walk off as quickly as her legs would take her. In between now and when she stormed off, she had pulled her hair into a high ponytail.

It was...

“Ah, there she is.” I smiled cheekily once I managed to catch up with her. “That’s the Vic I know you all too well.”

She scoffed angrily, and kept her eyes glued forward, refusing to spare me even a single look. “The plain idea that this is all we know is pretty damn dysfunctional.” She spat.

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve never complained before.”

“I could never stand you before.”

“How about now?”

Finally, she stopped walking, only to turn and glare. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, and her jaw was tightened, a sign of frustration. I fucking loved seeing girls angry. Especially girls like Victoria. It was like unraveling a coiled spring. I just loved watching them falter and break down before me. I loved watching their eyes fire up, and not to mention that cute thing Victoria does with her lips… Anger was always my preference out of the full spectrum of human emotion girls simply insist on showing. It was ten times better than the waterworks.

I resisted a smirk.

“I still can’t stand you.” She said coldly. Without another word, she averted her gaze forward and kept walking.

This time, I didn’t even bother resisting the smirk that fought its way to my face.

We spent the rest of the way to Merlin-knows-where arguing relentlessly. She was annoyed, and I was more than amused.

“Why are you so bloody annoyi — Oh Merlin, fuck!” she yelped in pain. Suddenly, her arms wrapped around her waist, and she frowned after cursing loudly. “You know what I hate more than you, Potter?” she asked with a sour laugh. Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Being a girl. I hate being a bloody girl.”

“Er…” I could only guess what was going on. “Lady problems?” I asked hesitantly, watching as she bent over in pain.

“Is it not obvious?” she snapped irritably.

I glared at her. “You’re just as snarky as Lily.”

“Shut up,” she spat.

I rolled my eyes. “You shut it, Victoria. Suck it up. The faster we get back to the common room, the faster you can whine about it on a bed.”

Victoria glared angrily, but nevertheless, she straightened up slowly and followed me back to the common room. Occasionally, she would bend over in pain, and walk like that for about half a corridor, but thankfully, she did not whine or complain.

Once we got to the common room, she wordlessly followed me up to my dorm. I wasn’t sure why, but I found it completely normal, as if it was part of my routine. The moment I opened the door, she made a beeline towards my bed, and collapsed on the surface. She buried her face into my sheets and curled up into a ball, hugging herself tightly. “Ugh.” She groaned.

I dropped my wand on my bedside table, and shrugged off my shoes. “Maybe you should have eaten that chocolate cake. I’ve been told chocolate helps.”

“I don’t exactly need you promoting the amount of regret I’m harboring at the moment.” She muttered against the duvet. “Merlin, Potter, you’re an arse.”

I rolled my eyes while I flittered through my rucksack, in search for my potions textbook. In the end, I found it under Tyler’s bed. I decided to get started on that potions essay due Monday morning.

By the time I turned back to her, Victoria had pulled her hair out of its confines and had begun playing with a curly lock. She ignored me as I climbed on the bed and settled against a few propped up pillows by the headboard.

“What are you doing?” she asked passively, still scrutinizing over her lock of hair.

“Potions essay.” I answered. “Have you done yours yet?”

“Yup, finished it a couple of days ago. Layla forced me to sit in the library and finish it with her.”

“Ah, was that when you two came late to practice?”

“Again, Potter,” Vic snapped maliciously. “We were not late. Showing up five seconds after the scheduled time is not being late. It just means we have an anal captain.”

“You two were late.” I insisted stubbornly. Being late to Quidditch practice was something I, as a captain, could not tolerate.

She growled. “Kiss my arse, you prat.”

I chuckled in response as I wrote my name on the corner of a blank piece of parchment. It took a good ten minutes of silence to get half an introduction down. For some unfathomable reason, I had difficulty comprehending even the simplest idea in the textbook. My mind wandered elsewhere, straying away from the biological origins of medicinal herbs, and on countless occasions, I found myself completely forgetting my godforsaken essay was supposed to be about in the first place.

“You’re not focusing, Potter.” Her voice penetrated through my empty thoughts. It took several moments for my mind to register what she was referring to. “You’ve been staring at that blank page for almost twenty minutes now.” Victoria was now lying on her back, staring at the canopy of my bed.

Childishly, I made a face, and shifted my weight to my elbow. Regardless, I still tried to focus. I reread my pathetic excuse of an introduction over and over again before I finally decided to give up and search for more information. I flipped through the same chapter over and over again, trying to soak up anything.

After a good minute later, I finally gave up and sighed irritably. My gaze shifted towards Victoria, who was now tracing the patterns on my duvet. Without thinking, I took my quill, reached over, and grazed her ear with the tip of the feather.

She squirmed pleasantly and frowned. “Quit playing around!” she ordered. “Do your essay.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I scolded for the sake of picking a fight. Again, I reached over, and tickled her ear with the end of the quill; this time, more aggressively. “I didn’t know you were so ticklish.” I laughed as I watched her squirming against the bunched up duvet. “Would you look at that.” I smirked arrogant as I stared down at her. “The mighty Victoria Rose has a weakness.”

“I’m not ticklish!” She cried indignantly. She was still attempting to back away; squirming relentlessly until she hit the edge of the bed.

I let out a loud, bark-like laugh, and approached her slowly. My potions textbook, now completely forgotten, fell on the ground with a clutter. “I beg to differ.”

Before she managed to say anything else, I pounced. My hands immediately went for her waist, and I tickled the living daylights out of her. As expected, she screamed loudly the moment my hands came in contact with her body. She screamed, laughed, and squealed — all very pleasant sounds — relentlessly. Somehow, we both fell off the bed with a loud thud, and even then, I refused to stop.

And that’s how we spent our day. We shared the softness of my bed, and the warmth of my duvet. She laid beside me reading her book, while I pretended to be engrossed in my potions essay. There was the occasional snapping and, not to mention, the episodes of anger-caused silence we insisted on placing in between us every now and then. It was almost impossible to have a pleasant conversation, since Victoria snapped at every single ‘arsehole’ comment I came up with. Although I admit, I was being an arsehole.

By the time I climbed back into my bed that night, I laid quietly in the darkness, ignoring Desmond’s quiet sneak-in. My mind wandered, and I found myself thinking about Victoria. I mentally cursed at the thought. Forget Desmond sneaking around with your little sister. Forget the fact that Cupids are about to be exposed because he wasn’t careful enough. Forget the fact that your cousin is currently going through a funk because your best friend broke her heart. Forget the fact that it was all Desmonds’ fault that your cousins’ heart is practically shattered to the point of seemingly no fixture. Think about Victoria and how she snogged your brother last night. Think about how close she came to snogging you last night as well. Think about her laugh, the sound you spent your day immersed in. The sound you found incredibly pleasant. Why was my mind working the way it was?

I wasn’t sure of anything, to be frank. I wasn’t sure why it was impossible for me to fall asleep, even though it was two in the morning. I wasn’t sure why it was as though my brain found that it was more important to stay up, thinking about Victoria, than to catch up on the sleep I craved for.

The only thing I was sure of, however, was that not once throughout the entire day, did the thought of fucking Victoria ever spring into my mind like it always did. Even when she squirmed beneath me, and even when her shirt rode up and exposed her bare stomach.

Of course, it was only because she was pissing blood.

It better have been.

Fuck.

A/N: hey guys! so i know it's short, but at least the update came faster this time! leave your thoughts and whatnot :) i'll keep the chapters coming!